Fun as it's been, even the pie was nothing compared to the churning outrage over Anthony Lane's review of Star Wars—Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. In brief, he doesn't care for it. Yoda should be ground up in a blender. Natalie Portman's football helmet makes no sense. "Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue." (Not so Lane's, which I found rather jarring.) The film "is a zoo of rampant storyboards." Others disagree, however, so Anakins are gonna roll:

Everyone's talking about Anthony Lane's review of Revenge of the Sith in this week's New Yorker. With its mix of death-defying vivisectional logic ("how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes"), and low-blow stand-up comedy ("Sith. What kind of a word is that? ... It sounds to me like the noise that emerges when you block one nostril and blow through the other"), this is the battlecry we've been waiting for.... Jump into the controversy! (Ewok Babes is just crying out for an Andrew Hearst cover.)

By the way, emdashers, it's come to my attention (through studying my own RSS feed, after a pleasant email exchange with Renaissance man Matt Shobe of both FeedBurner and a recent cartoon caption contest) that my—horrors!—em dashes don't always come through as such, but as alphanumerical soup. Please, for the love of all that is typographical, tell me if your browser or feed can't read a character I've used. I know you have the same gentle forgiving nature as me (OK, me on a good day), so it's hard for you to bring yourself to criticize, but it's so much worse not to know. Think of bad HTML as spinach in my teeth, and tell me as a friend. That's what the email link is for. And although I say this on my profile (thataway==>), it's worth repeating for the skittery-jittery types among you that I never, ever quote anything without permission. Letters are private; interviews are interviews. I may not have gone to j-school (if I had, I'd be in even more debt than I already am from p-school), but I know how to mind my t's and k's.

Tomorrow: some pain-easing methadone for all of you Sean Wilsey addicts, who need more and more about him every day to calm the shakes. I understand, and I'm here to help.

Space Case [Anthony Lane, New Yorker]
Anthony Lane and the Sith Backlash [Cinematical]
Top 99 Actual Star Wars Lines You Might Hear In A Porno [Keepers of Lists, via Cinematical. Why do men say "porno" and women say "porn movie"? Take-home exam is due in 48 hours under my office door.]
Metaphysics of a Magazine [NY Observer on Radar, as fresh out of the oven as Kogepan!]